ReTelling History
by FantasyEmpress
Summary: A retelling of the story of Anne Bonny and Jack Rackham, changed to be what I want. NOT Sparrabeth, sorry, but it says Jack was very much in love with Elizabeth at one point. The first few chapters will probably be kinda angsty. R&R! Discontinued for now.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: **_**PLEASE READ THIS FIRST!!! **_**I just read a historical novel called **_**Kingston by Starlight **_**or something like that. It was about Anne Bonny, Calico Jack Rackham, and Mary Read. I hated it. Why? First off, it was gender confused. Read is in love with Bonny, Rackham had an affair with the governor of Jamaica, and Bonny is just confused. Second off, it was miserably tragic. Calico Jack got hung, Read died, and Rackham and Bonny's child was miscarried. Now, most of that is probably historically correct, but I don't like it, so I decided to write the story of Anne Bonny and Calico Jack Rackham the way **_**I **_**would like it. Oh….and Jack is Jack…if that makes any since. It shall all be explained in due time! Anyways, it's NOT Sparrabeth, but it does assume that Jack **_**was VERY **_**in love with Elizabeth once upon a time. If any of ye are great respecters of historical accuracy, ye shan't like this tale! I've changed it all to fit my likings. **

_**DID YOU READ THE A/N? IF NOT, PLEASE GO BACK AND READ IT!!**_

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything that anyone else owns. **

_**DID YOU READ THE A/N? IF NOT, PLEASE GO BACK AND READ IT!!**_

The ship skimming lightly over the water, following the galleon, had black sails. Unusual, and yet somehow wonderful. The sails were full, the wind was perfect, and the sailors aboard _The Hispaniola _were panicking. It was a small galleon, carrying a relatively small shipment of gold doubloons. The ship with black sails was gaining on them.

"It's _The Revenge! _We shan't be able to escape! No one ever does!"

"Aye, but Calico Jack don't hurt 'is victims. 'les they fight, 'course."

"But the Boss'll kill us fer losin' 'is gold!"

"Men! Calm down! Some of you go down and hide half of the gold in the hidden compartment. We shall hand over the other half and declare it all we have. That way we will have something to take back. The governor can hardly blame us for losing some. It's his fault there's still pirates in these waters anyway!"

The men calmed somewhat at their captain's assurances. They watched the approaching pirate vessel with wary eyes. There was excitement in their faces as well. They, a humble crew of mixed-racial sailors, were going to view the great Calico Jack Rackham, the uncatchable, unkillable Pirate Lord of the Caribbean! This man was said to have defeated the entire East India Trading Company and Davy Jones almost single-handedly! Almost eagerly, they watched as the ship ran up the famous black flag, bearing a skull and two crossed cutlasses. As the two ships drew closer, they scanned the deck of _The Revenge _excitedly, looking for a legend. All eyes stopped on the man at the wheel.

Of medium height, he wore an incredibly worn tri-corn hat, and a ragged old sea-coat. A rough white blouse was crossed by a brace of pistols, and a cutlass swung from a belt at his waist. His dreadlocked hair was decorated by an interesting assortment of trinkets. As he sent his men over onto the victim vessel, he came to the rail, and the curious sailors were able to get a better glimpse of his face. They were all surprised by two things; he looked young, and he looked miserable. He looked no older than thirty; but that was how old he had been when the EITC was defeated ten years ago. Therefore, he must be at least forty. He didn't look it. His eyes were dark and sad, like those of a lost puppy. They had always heard that he was constantly smiling and scheming, but there was no trace of joy on this man's face. Even his mustache seemed to droop miserably. As his men tied them up, the Spaniards felt a vague sense of disappointment. This legend; this Captain Calico John (Jack) Rackham Sparrow, was nothing but a miserable, drunken pirate. He crossed over to _The Hispaniola, _twirling a black die idly in one hand. When he spoke, his voice was monotone and lifeless.

"Alright men, I'll give you a sailor's choice: be marooned on the nearest spit o' land, or come join me crew. Which o' you wants the first?"

Five brave men, including the captain, agreed they would be marooned. With one shot each, it was possible they might be able to hunt up some food and stay alive for a couple of weeks, during which time they may be rescued. The other fifteen men on the small vessel decided to join the pirates. _The Revenge _was a somewhat larger vessel, and they had recently lost some crew members to an on-ship illness. Therefore the new men were welcomed, read the terms of their "employment", and asked to sign the articles. The first mate, a swarthy fellow by the name of Gibbs, saw to the new crewmen, instructed them on their watches, showed them where to sleep, told them mealtimes, etc. The captain disappeared into his cabin. After realizing they would not be returning to Port Royal anyway, the sailors told about the hidden compartment in there ship, and the rest of the gold was retrieved. The next morning, the captain came out on deck for roll-call, but it was Gibbs who did the calling.

"Right then! Each of ye state 'is name and place o' origin! One at a time lads! Just give the name ya want ta be called by. Ain't got ta be your real handle."

"Corgan. Born in Scotland."

"Pierre. France."

"Francois. France. Pierre's my brother."

"Keegan. Ireland."

"Read. England."

"Pete. England."

"Louis. France."

"Palo. Spain."

"Rocky. Jamaica."

"Kent. I was born at sea, and I live at sea."

"Pablo. Spain."

"Seadog Richards. I think me parents wer' fro' Portugal."

"Cooky. Was from Africa, till the slavers catched me."

"Catfish. Born on some island somewheres."

"Ginger-snap. England."

"Good. A good mixed lot. Now, 'ave any of ya's got a disability or sickness we ought ta know 'bout? No? Good. Alright then, off ta your jobs!"

Gibbs turned to his captain and sighed at the glazed look in the once happy and eager brown eyes. It had been like this for so long. What Gibbs wouldn't do to see Jack as he had once been! He had been a genius; calculating, clever, and witty. Trouble had never fazed him. Death itself had not fazed him! But there was one thing that could ruin Jack Sparrow, and it had. At first, he had seemed fine; he had chased down the man who stole his ship, marooned him, and renamed the ship in honor of having done to Hector Barbossa the same thing that Barbossa had done to him. Then, he had gotten Gibbs and his old crew together and taken off for the fabled Fountain of Youth. It was on that voyage that Gibbs noticed the change. Jack started drinking more, spending long hours in his cabin. He let Gibbs do all the navigating. He stared blankly into space for long hours at a time and only ate enough to keep himself standing. Weight dropped from his bones at a frightening speed. He stopped doing the little things that had made him dashing; polishing his boots and hat, things like that. He asked that the crew stop calling him Captain Sparrow, and instead took on his mother's last name, Rackham. They took to calling him Calico Jack, because he had so many different characters locked up in the body of one man.

Gibbs had thought that Jack would get over the woman who was known in the pirate world as Lei. The Chinese name meant Thunder. And Jack hadn't gotten over her. It had been just over ten years since Jack bid her goodbye, and Jack had never regained his previous joy for life. He drank ridiculous amounts and wondered around in a glazed state of half-inebriation. The amount of alcohol that Jack had consumed in the last ten years would have killed him if he had not drunk from the Fountain. Apparently, it not only preserved youth, but made one invincible. Gibbs would never forget he the night Jack got dead drunk, sobbed like a baby, then shot himself through the head before Gibbs could stop him. When nothing happened except a small hole which healed immediately, Jack began drinking more than ever before. Unable to die, and unable to enjoy life. Ironic how close Jack came to being what Barbossa and his crew had been all those years ago.

Now, Jack was little more than a walking skeleton; bone thin, dressed in ragged clothes, eyes glazed and vacant, rum bottle as constant as if it were a fifth limb. When he did speak, which was rare, it was only to give some necessary order. His voice has lost all life, taking on the same blank vacancy as his eyes. Gibbs had never heard of a man so heartbroken that ten years could not heal the wound at least somewhat, but that was what Jack was. Gibbs sighed again as Jack drank a fourth of the bottle in one long gulp, smashed the empty bottle on the deck, then staggered back into his cabin. Captain Jack Sparrow was dead, and all that was left was Calico Jack Rackham.


	2. Chapter 2

Jack sat on his bunk, staring into the blackness before him and fighting the memories that threatened to burst to the forefront of his mind. Nobody, perhaps with the exception of Gibbs and one or two others, had any idea what had happened to him. He had defeated his enemies, apparently triumphed in every way, yet he was broken. It was all _her _fault. Lei, that was what they called her now. Thunder. It fit, but he could never forget the feisty young woman who he had pulled from the ocean twelve years ago. To him, her name would always be Elizabeth. She was beautiful, but beauty was common enough. What was unique and intriguing about her was that she was _powerful. _She could wrap a man around her finger with a look. Her kiss could make a coward face death bravely. And her love of another could break a man irreparably.

He knew she had a child now. He knew that her tenth wedding anniversary had happened the month before, bringing her husband with it. He knew Calypso had granted William his freedom, and found another, a single man, to do the task of Jones. He knew everything about her. How could one not, when her exploits were spoken of at every bar in the Caribbean and just about everywhere else? He tried constantly to forget her, but everywhere he looked there was something to remind him of her. Every time he walked by the mainmast, he remembered her kiss as if it were yesterday. Every port was full of stories of her. She had not been idle in the last ten years. She had refitted _The Empress _and sailed around the Caribbean, taking young William III with her. She continued her pirating ways unabated. She had been caught once, but the late Governor Swann was still respected, and his daughter and grandson were quietly released. Five years ago, he had sent her a copy of the chart to the Fountain of Youth. She had left a message for him in a tavern in Nassau Port.

"_Thank you, Jack. I plan to take Willy and head to the Fountain. Perhaps, in the next few hundred years, we shall meet again. Lei Elizabeth Turner" _

It was cruelly impersonal, yet he had slept with the small scrap of paper under his pillow for the last five years. Two years ago, he had allowed himself to think about her for a whole evening, and it had driven him to suicide. The failure of his self-slaying had driven him further into his personal hell. He thought about going out on deck and jumping overboard, but knew it would not help. He could not die. How he had longed for immortality! Yet now all he wanted was to be rid of it. To go back to the Locker and take out his anger at life on himself; killing each facet of his character until nothing was left. To rest in blackness. Death, it seemed, would be wonderful.

He had loved before; his little sister had been his favorite person in the world in his youth. She had died in illegitimate childbirth when she was seventeen, after being raped by a sailor, who Jack had then killed. Even at that, the pain had been almost completely gone after two years. If he thought of her, he still felt a twinge of sadness. Elizabeth wasn't dead, and yet ten years had not dulled the pain. He did not understand the workings of his own heart.

He had an inordinate longing to see her again, even if nothing could possibly come of it. Just to look at the beautiful face of the woman he loved seemed like the thought of Heaven. How often he wished he had never met her in the first place. He could have left her in the water; to live or die depending on the speed of her commodore friend and his men. Yet, even as he wished he had never met her, he knew he was glad he had. He would not have traded his time with her for the world. The time in which he had known her had been the happiest time in his life. Her smile, her wit, her kiss; everything about her had made him dazzlingly happy.

He had never thought himself to be the kind of man who would fall in love. Perhaps that was why he had fallen so hard. Hard enough that even after ten years he was still not back on his feet. At first, he had always told himself that he would either recover from love altogether or find someone else to love. It hadn't happened.

He stood up, lit the lamp, and went to peer into the mirror. The dashing rogue from ten years ago was nothing but a vague memory. His eyes had been one of his most charming features, but now they held no sparkle, no laughter, no wit. They were dead. His mouth was turned down as if it did not have enough energy to smile. In truth, he didn't. He tried to force a smile across his face and only got a grimace. He looked like an malnourished stray dog. His clothes were tattered. His hair was matted beyond help. Idly, he picked up a pair of shear-like scissors and sat down to cut of his mane. After all, the rest of Jack Sparrow was dead and gone, why not this too? When he had cut it all off, he put the trinkets that had adorned it in the drawer of his desk and looked at himself again. He had left it about down to his collar in the back, and it hung shaggy around his eyes and ears. He was somewhat surprised, because it actually made him look younger and better than he had lately. He tucked his faded bandana into the drawer.

Somehow, not knowing quite why, he suddenly became determined to go on. Lizzie would have wanted him to be what he once had. He could not do that, but he could at least stop looking like a drunken sot. Even if his heart was irreparably broken, he could put on a brave front for the world. He had seen the disappointment in the crew of the ship they had just taken. Once, men had been almost delighted if Captain Jack Sparrow's ship attacked theirs. Now, men watched Calico Jack Rackham with pity and disillusionment. It was time to resurrect the legend.

Digging about in the trunk in the corner, he managed to find two good sets of clothes; rough but not ragged. He even found a coat that was quite similar to the one that used to be his favorite. He polished his hat with waterproofing grease. Dressing in a simple white blouse, black breeches, black boots, the dark navy coat, and his hat, he headed out on the deck. It was a clear night, but the moon was at its smallest point, a sliver-like crescent. Ragetti and Pintel were on night watch. Their eyes widened slightly at the sight of their captain; it had been a long time since he came out for no reason, dressed in clean clothes. Also, they were shocked by his hair, which they had never seen short, and the fact that he was not wearing a single trinket…except for a bit of cloth tied around his wrist. Once, long ago, he had cut his hand on something, and Elizabeth had ripped that scrap of cloth off one of her old petticoats and used it to bandage the wound.

He headed down to the dining cabin, where most of the crew was drinking and laughing. A hush fell over the group as he stepped into the room. They all stared at him, shocked. Gibbs' eyes were as wide as saucers. Jack almost felt like smiling, laughing. Almost, but not quite.

Jack did well that night, managing to refrain from too much drinking. But when he got to his cabin, he found himself sobbing like a child who had just lost their best friend. Ten years of pain hit him like a cannon ball, and he cried himself to sleep.


	3. Chapter 3

_Two months later:_

The young man creeping through the alley was little more than a boy. His face showed delicate features, bordering on femininity, which had no doubt made him the brunt of jokes by his peers. He would have made a lovely girl. Shaggy black hair hung to his shoulders, and a tri-corn hat was unceremoniously squashed onto his head. He wore all black; black boots, black breeches, black blouse, and a black coat that was far too big for him. His eyes were green, as green as the Irish shore from whence he came. He wore the cutlass at his side with an air of confidence that contradicted his youth. He had used that sword, and he was confident of his skill with it.

He peered around the corner, then back down the alleyway. Finally feeling relatively safe, he exited the alley and walked at a brisk pace to the nearby tavern. He glanced out at the harbor and saw that a gorgeous vessel with black sails had berthed since he had last been here. He smiled, his clean, straight teeth once again proving that he was not just another Tortuga street urchin grown up. He was determined to get a job on that ship. He entered the tavern.

In the middle of the room, a large group of patrons was gathered around someone who the young man couldn't spot. He raised up on tiptoes, trying hard to see over the crowd. Suddenly, a hand landed on his shoulder, and he spun quickly, hand flying to the hilt of his cutlass.

"Easy Bonn! It's just me. Where on earth have you been?"

"Davy! I've told you a thousand times not to surprise me. That nasty old man I owe six weeks rent hired an even nastier thug to chase me down, which pretty much means I've got to get a job today and be out of here before he finds me. He'll make me pay up, and if I ain't got the money, he'll kill me and sell my clothes for the debt, I reckon. What's everybody crowded round for?"

"Calico Jack Rackham just berthed, and he's being made to tell stories."

"Is that the man who once had another name? Who changed his entire identity for love of a woman?"

"Aye, that's 'im. 'E was in love with a gal who up and married the captain of _The Flying Dutchman. _They say he's spent the last ten years as drunk as a pig stewed in ale. Then, coupl'o'months ago, he up and started acting like his old self, or so the folks who remember Jack Sparrow say. That was his old name…Jack Sparrow. Some o' the fellows here remember what he used to be like. They say he used to smile a lot more, and laugh a lot. He doesn't laugh at all now. He smiles sometimes. What a woman she must have been! To break a man's heart that badly!"

"Aye. Is his ship the one with black sails?"

"Yes. First it was _The Wicked Wench, _then it was _The Black Pearl, _now he's named it _The Revenge."_

"Why? Does he plan to get revenge on the woman?"

"No, no. He knew the lass loved another even when he fell in love with her, so she's really done him no wrong. It had something to do with a mutinous first mate."

"Is he taking on crewmembers?"

"Dunno. I only got here ten minutes ago, and they've been pestering him to tell them stories of his legendary existence."

Davy was about twenty-five, broad-shouldered, blond, blue-eyed, and cheery. He dwarfed Bonn, who was short and fragile looking. Bonn couldn't possibly be older than seventeen. Davy pushed through the crowd and Bonn stayed closely in his wake. He ignored the one or two suggestions that he was girlish or a eunuch. When they reached the center, Bonn studied the man there.

The most surprising thing about Calico Jack Rackham was his youthfulness. His hair was just brushing his shoulders in the back, but was shorter and shaggier in the front. His eyes held no enthusiasm for anything, but really were quite lovely of themselves. He wasn't as thin as Bonn had heard some say, and he didn't wear tattered clothes, as some said, but the overall appearance was that of a rather miserable fellow. He wasn't talking at the moment, as the crowd was discussing his last story. In one hand, he twirled a black die. The other clutched the neck of a rum bottle as if it were his only friend in the world. He stared off into nothingness as it was very interesting indeed. Bonn approached him light-footedly.

"Excuse me? Captain Rackham?'

Deep chocolate brown eyes turned towards him. A slight raising of the eyebrows appeared to be an indication that Bonn could proceed.

"Sir, are you in need of any new crewmen? My friend Davy and I are looking for jobs. I'm small and I'm young, but I'm skilled. I can use a cutlass well, cook, tie knots, mend sails…basically anything that doesn't require brute strength. Davy, as you can see, is strong. He can do what I can't."

Rackham peered at the pair.

"How old are you, lad?"

"Seventeen sir."

"Uh-huh. And you?"

"Twenty-five."

"So the big one's Davy. Horrid name. What about you boy?"

"Bonn."

"That a last name or a first name?"

"Last. Artie is my first name."

"Artie Bonn? That's a name worth a laugh or two."

"Aye. I've learned to ignore others unless they are of some importance to my life. I don't care what other people think."

"You've got spunk, kid. That's good. I'll take you two on, at least on trial basis. If you're no good, off you go in the next port. Got it?"

"Aye. Thank you sir. When do you sail?"

"Tomorrow morning. First light. If ya don't show up, ya don't come."

………………………………………………………………………………………………

The sun peeked over the horizon like a shy child, trying to decide if he should come forth completely. Bonn skipped down the cobblestone path from the tavern where he'd slept. Davy, following at a more sedated pace, burst into laughter.

"Bonn, it's no wonder the men call you girlish, a eunuch. You're skipping like a little girl!"

A horrified look briefly washed over Bonn's face, but then he laughed it off.

"Today, I'm happy enough to endure the laughter brought on by skipping! Finally, a job on the sea! Calico doesn't seem like a bad fellow. Old and sad and stuffy, but not cruel or unfair."

"He's hardly old. Though I suppose compared with your extreme youth he must seem that way. They say he'll never get older than he was when he found The Fountain of Youth. If that's true, which is possible, I suppose, then he'll never be older than thirty except in years. Which means that someday you will look older than him. Odd thought, eh?"

"Perhaps I shall be able to get him to tell me where the Fountain is, and I shall live forever!"

"Unlikely. Now, we'd better hurry, so we don't get left behind."

When they reached the docks, the crew of _The Revenge _was bustling about, loading provisions and goods. Calico stood at the top of the gangplank, overseeing the work with a bored expression. Gibbs, standing next to the captain, was marking off things on a sheet of paper. Bonn led the way up the ramp.

"Mornin' Captain Rackham. Are we on time?"

"Aye. Go help the men load stuff on."

Davy immediately began making friends with the men, but Bonn worked alone, lifting the lighter loads with lithe strength, but not overburdening himself. He was silent until he was approached by another young man, about the same height and only slightly larger. This fellow had brown eyes and dark hair, plain facial features, and somewhat ragged clothes. He wore a cutlass and a brace of pistols, and had a scar across his cheekbone which suggested he had been in a serious battle at some point. He must have won, else he would not still be here. He smiled at Bonn, revealing teeth which would have been as straight and white as Bonn's if not for the fact that one had apparently been knocked out, probably in a fistfight. His smile was friendly. He stuck out a somewhat grimy hand to Bonn, which Bonn accepted and shook lightly.

"'Ello. I'm Read. What's your handle?"

"Bonn."

"How old are you? I'm nineteen."

"I'm twe-…seventeen. I'm seventeen."

"Then we're pretty close in age, aren't we? Perhaps we can be friends! I joined this crew when the vessel I was working on was taken by Calico Jack two months ago. He's sure changed a lot since then. Old Gibbs says Calico is much more like he used to be now. He doesn't smile much. Why don't you talk?"

"I only talk when I've got to. Or when I'm very happy."

"You're Irish, aren't you? I've heard that accent before. I was born in London. But my mother's cousin was partially Irish. I like Ireland."

By this time Bonn was completely ignoring Read, who continued babbling. Instead, Bonn was watching Calico, puzzling over the fact that he had wallowed in heartbreak for ten whole years. Bonn had never known a man capable of loving so deeply. He had begun to doubt the reality of true love. But Calico Jack seemed to be proof of its existence. Now, Bonn wondered if it were possible to love like that twice. Would it be possible for Rackham to love like that again? Bonn sighed. It mattered not. Still, it left Bonn with a deep feeling of curiosity. Could one love completely twice?


	4. Chapter 4

_Three months later:_

Jack walked onto the deck, half-drunk but still relatively lucid, and felt his jaw drop at the sight before him. Read and Ginger-snap, who were on night duty, were standing close together, their mouths connected in a highly passionate kiss. He stared for a moment, then moved under the deck stairs to contemplate what he should do.

Throughout his years as captain, Jack had heard stories of sailors so desperate for human contact that they turned to each other. He had made it one of his articles, which each sailor signed when joining the crew. "_No man is to have any kind of intimate physical contact with another man aboard ship." _Frankly, Jack didn't believe himself responsible for what they did off his ship, but the idea of walking in on something between two men had always repulsed him immensely. He had suspected that over the years some of his men had quietly disobeyed him, but had never been able to prove it. This however! This was blatant.

He stepped out and decided to address the issue clearly.

"Read! Ginger-snap! What the heck are you doing?!!?"

The two jumped away from each other, stuttering and trying to make excuses. Finally, Read managed to speak coherently.

"Captain Rackham, Sir, it's not how it looks!"

"It's not? What were you doing then Read? Please explain."

"That's not what I mean Sir. I…I mean…I…"

"I'm waiting. Please do give your fascinating excuse."

"I'm a girl."

Jack later felt quite sure that his eyes bugged right out of his head at that. Of all the excuses he had expected to hear, that wasn't even close to being on the list. He was suddenly awash with memories.

"_Captain Sparrow."_

"_Come to join my crew lad? Welcome aboard."_

"_I've come to find the man I love."_

"……_I'm deeply flattered son, but my first and only love is the sea."_

"_Meaning William Turner, Captain Sparrow."_

"_Elizabeth."_

He pushed the memories away, forced his attention back to the couple in front of him. Suddenly he could see that Read was indeed somewhat feminine, despite the scar and missing tooth. The figure was somehow girlish, though Read had obviously bound up her breasts to add to the boyishness. The eye-lashes were too long for a boy, the lips too full. No sign of facial hair. Jack suddenly couldn't believe he had missed it. And he suddenly felt a paranoid certainty that, if he looked hard enough, he would find every other crewmember was a female in disguise. Gibbs would have a seizure!

"Captain Rackham…I can prove it. My name is Mary Louise Read. I'm nineteen. Born in London. I have my certificate of birth, if you like. And I have a dress. If I put it on, I think you will be quite convinced. Ginger-snap discovered I was a girl while we were on _The Hispaniola_, but he was kind enough not to tell. We fell in love. I swear, we've done nothing more than kiss. I'm a good lass. And I can work and fight like any man. Please don't put me off at the next port!"

Ginger-snap finally seemed to be finding his voice.

"Everything she says is true. And if you put her off at the next port, I plan to go with her. So you will lose two good crewmembers."

"Shut up, boy. I have more than enough _men _as it is. The loss of two wouldn't hurt the workings of the ship. As it is though, I see no harm in what you're up to. Read has to stay a boy, and you both have to promise you will be discreet and do no more than kiss. I will _not_ have a pregnant woman on board. And if Read gets caught, I shall have to lock her in the brig for three weeks as mandated by the articles, or everyone will think I don't enforce the rules. So don't get caught."

They stared at him for a moment, then Read broke out in a huge grin and hugged Jack, thanking him profusely. He pushed her away and headed down the stairs to the rum room.

……………………………………………..

When he got down into the darkness, he grabbed a bottle, took a long swig, than stood still, considering what had just happened. The only sound was the waves lapping the hull and the sound of rats scurrying about. He thought he heard something else, but shook off the feeling that he was not alone. Then he heard it again, a small sound; a bottle clinking lightly against something. Was someone drinking _his _rum?!? What madman would _dare_ to take from the captain's special storeroom?!? _Clink. Clink. Clink. Sniffle. _Now what was _that_ sound? It almost sounded as if someone were crying. Curiously, Jack walked further back into the darkness of the rum storage room. He held up his lamp and felt, for the second or third time that night, shock.

The young lad, Bonn, was sitting on the floor, holding a broken rum bottle in one hand and a trinket of some sort in the other. His hands were covered in blood. The clinking was made as the trinket, a locket on a thin chain, banged lightly against the remains of the bottle. Bonn looked dazed, tears streaming unheeded from his eyes as he peered at the locket. Jack stared at the boy for a moment, then spoke.

"Bonn? What are you doing? Are you alright lad?"

The boy jumped up, dropping the bottle, which smashed more completely, and clutching the locket to his heart. The blood spread to his white blouse. With one hand, he tried to wipe away the tears, spreading blood grotesquely across his cheeks. Suddenly, he looked at his hands and gasped, his eyes growing wide. He appeared unable to speak. Jack filled the gap. Taking a handkerchief from his pocket, he wet it with rum.

"Here, boy, let me clean those cuts. What happened here?"

Bonn held out his hands, which had strangely long and slim fingers. Several deep gashes ran across his otherwise smooth palms. Blood was seeping from them, though not at an alarming pace. He sloshed rum on the boy's left palm and saw him grimace with pain. The stinging apparently brought him back to reality, and he spoke in a husky voice.

"I…my…five years ago, my mother and I were coming to the New World, seeking to join my father, who had come here two years before. The sailors on the ship had three young girls locked up, who they would routinely rape. One day, my mother tried to stop them. They raped her and then killed her. The cabin boy hid me somewhere so that they would not rape me as well, and kept me safe the rest of the journey. This locket…."

Bonn's face suddenly went snow white. Jack had caught the mistake.

"Why would they rape you? I know there's perverted men out there who'll take lads, but if they only had girls locked up, then why would they want you?"

"I…I…umm…they…Well, this locket was my mother's. It's been a year since she died, as of today. I wanted to get drunk, but I tripped and broke the bottle."

"Answer the first question lad. Why would sailors who obviously preferred girls try to rape you?"

"My mother had dressed me as a girl to prevent me being forced to fight if there was an attack."

"You don't lie very well, Bonn."

"What do you want me to tell you? That I'm a girl in disguise? That I'm a noblewoman seeking adventure? That there was one pervert among those sailors who wanted me?"

"I'll take the pervert story. If I find out there's another woman aboard this ship I swear I'll jump off it."

"_Another _woman? There's a woman on board?"

"Aye. The lad with the scar and the missing tooth isn't as much a lad as I thought. Caught her smoochin' Ginger-snap. I've had a couple of women try that before, but I generally caught them _before _they boarded. Now, don't go blabbin' to the crew that there's a girl on ship, they think it's bad luck. I told her she can stay s'long as she don't get pregnant and stays in disguise."

"Wow. It must be hard to sneak aboard a ship if you're a woman."

"Indeed. Now lad, bind up those hands and get to bed."

He watched Bonn leave and forced himself to believe that he had not let two females aboard his ship without knowing it.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: sorry for the long spaces between the chapters, that'll be stopping soon. **

_Six months later:_

The captain had been holed up in his cabin all day, causing speculative conversation among the newer crewmembers and knowing looks among the older ones. Bonn, being an insatiably curious fellow, decided to ask Gibbs, who seemed to either know everything or to have made up a story about everything. She walked by Read and Ginger-snap working side by side. They always worked together and had a tendency to stand unnecessarily close. This caused some of the crew members to suspect that they were doing something unnatural, but Bonn knew the truth. Bonn wondered how Read had survived duels and fistfights against men. Gibbs greeted Bonn with a smile.

"Gibbs? Why is the captain locked up in his cabin? I've heard he used to do that a lot, but he hasn't done it much since I've been here, and that's been almost a year."

Gibbs sighed, casting a concerned glance at the captain's cabin. Jack was his friend as well as his captain, and he worried about him.

"Today is the eleventh anniversary of the day several momentous things happened. Davy Jones was killed, Cutler Beckett was killed (and the EIC defeated), and Lei Swann married William Turner. That's the thing that makes the captain lock himself up and drink enough to kill any other man. He still misses her something awful."

"Did she not care about him at all?"

"Oh, she cared about him. They were very much alike. She was fascinated by him. She'd tease him, flirt with him. Thing is, she thought she was just another girl he would only want until he got her into bed. She never knew he loved her. I doubt she does, even to this day. No doubt she's heard rumors about him being heartbroken, but she wouldn't be able to imagine Jack as anything other than what he was back then. Sometimes, I think that if she had known Jack loved her, she would have broken her engagement to that sappy little boy and gone with Jack. He should have told her. Might have changed his life…"

"That's awfully sad. The captain seems like a good man. What made William Turner so much better?"

"He wasn't better. Eliza…I mean Lei, she helped save him from the ocean when they were just little kids. He fell in love with her, moped over her for years. She liked the attention, and he was what girls think good-looking. He was romantic, sappy, noble, and courageous. Bleck. Now Jack, Jack was her first taste of a _real _man, but by that time she was engaged to Turner and she couldn't find it in her to break his heart. She was a strong, independent young woman, but she had a weakness for the boy- the same kind of weakness one would have for a lost pup. Stupid fellow couldn't even succeed in mutinying. He tried it, and ended up in the brig. Unfortunately, Jack loved Lei enough to save her lad from dying, and in doing so he tied Lei to Turner for eternity. Even now that Turner's been freed, he'll probably be around forever. Jack was never the lovin' type, so when it caught him it caught him bad. Eleven years and it still hurts him somethin' horrible."

"Poor man. I can't imagine loving anyone that much. I suppose it would be the most wonderful thing in the world to love like that, if the other person loved you back."

"Maybe. But I doubt poor Jack will ever know."

Bonn, despite Gibbs' insistence that Jack would not want to be disturbed, decided to take him a tray with some food when it became obvious that he hadn't eaten all day and wasn't planning to. Bonn didn't knock, knowing there would be no answer. Instead he stuck the key he'd filched from Gibbs in the lock and entered. Rackham was the picture of forlorn sorrow, sitting at his desk, head bent, toying with the ever-present black die in one hand, gripping the equally ever-present rum bottle in the other. He looked so very lonely. Bonn's heart filled with pity. He glanced up, a trace of irritation crossing his handsome sorrow-worn features.

"What'd'ya want?" His voice was slightly slurred, though he appeared to be coherent. Bonn set the tray on the desk.

"It's not good for you not to eat, Captain. You need to keep healthy for the sake of your ship and your crew."

His smirk held nothing but emptiness and misery. He threw back the rum bottle, and gulped about half of what was left before setting it down.

"Bonn, I can't die even if I want to, and believe me, I want to. I'll be fine. Now please leave me alone."

"Captain, you're acting like a fool. You've let eleven years of your life go to waste because some woman didn't appreciate your love for her enough to return it. It's far past time to move on. Your initial pain is very much understandable. This however, is just a stupid waste of time. She's gone, and you've got to move on."

Bonn's words had the desired affect. Rackham's eyes were no longer empty, but were instead filled with anger. Bonn knew men, knew how excusing them of acting stupid and wasting time could anger them. Jack Rackham's eyes were filled with years of anger. Bonn had planned to bring it to the surface, and he had succeeded wonderfully. Jack's emotions had been buried too long. If he could get them all out, perhaps it would push him forward on his ridiculously long road to healing. Bonn liked Jack enough to endure the inevitable fist that hit him square on the nose.

The punch wasn't that strong, Jack was inebriated and acting on impulsive anger. It hurt, and blood started trickling, but Bonn knew his nose wasn't broken. He hit the captain back without a pause, up under the chin, knocking his head back. For a minute or two they exchanged blows with no real harm done, but Bonn had other plans for Jack's raging emotions. He wanted tears. He tossed a feinting punch at Rackham's jaw, then, while the captain was distracted, grabbed a fistful of hair and yanked as hard as he could, feeling quite a bit come loose. Jack howled and knocked Bonn right off his feet. Stars dancing around his head, Bonn rose and was pleased to see Jack holding his head in his hands and gasping, shoulders shaking as he fought back sobs. Bonn had noticed several times during her employment on _The Revenge_ that Jack winced if his hair was tugged even the littlest bit, and had guessed him to be extremely tender headed. Jack looked up at him in fury, eyes brimming. Several choice swear words later, the captain managed to choke out a half coherent question.

"Why did you do that, you idiotic little twit?!"

Bonn sighed.

"I wanted to make you cry, Captain Rackham, and if you don't I'll do it again. I don't know what you were like before I got here, but you haven't cried since I've known you, and I believe men need to cry when they feel bad just as much as women. They don't as much, and it's probably why men are more violent. All that emotion bottled up inside…it's not good for you."

Suddenly overcome by everything- the pain, the misery, the anger- Jack sobbed. The next thing he was aware of was slumping to the floor and feeling soft, thin arms around him, his head sinking to rest on a warm soft breast, and the sudden memory of his mother holding him when he was a child rushing back. He cried for everything; his mother, Elizabeth, his lost self, the days when he been happy and free. All the while those long soft fingers brushed through his hair, soft and comforting, gently rubbing the sore place where they had previously pulled. It was not until much later, when the wracking sobs finally stopped, that he realized that something was very, very wrong.

No young man could, or would, hold his captain like that while he cried. No young man had such gentle fingers or such warm curves. Eyes wide, he looked up at Bonn and found himself staring into the most gorgeous, most feminine green eyes he had ever seen. Shocked, he backed away.

"Who are you?!"

She- for he suddenly had no doubt that this was in fact a female- sighed softly. She stood up, and wet a handkerchief with rum, wiping at the blood drying under her nose.

"My name is Anne Bonny."

He sank into his chair, overwhelmed. He _had _allowed two women onto his ship unawares. He wasn't sure whether to be anger, amused, or horrified. She sat across from him, and he was suddenly horrified by the bruises on her otherwise pretty face. He had _hit _a woman! He just sat there for a long moment, stunned. Then he finally managed to speak.

"Would you care to explain what you're doing on my ship?"

She sighed.

"After Mother was killed by the sailors, I was smuggled by a kind sailor to the port where my father lived. When I was thirteen a servant girl attacked me. I don't know why, maybe she was crazy. That was when I decided not to let other people hurt me any more. I stabbed her in the stomach with a kitchen knife. She died the next day. I felt horrible. When I was sixteen, I met James Bonny. He wanted my father's money, but I didn't care, I just wanted to get away from Father. He had become a horrible man at some point. I married James, and Father disowned me. Since James had mainly wanted me for my inheritance, he lost interest quickly. I caught him with a strumpet in our bed last year. I believe marriage is forever, Captain Rackham, but even the Bible calls adultery grounds for divorce. I asked him for one, but he wouldn't grant it. He would bring his girls home and carry them into our bedroom right in front of me! I couldn't stand it anymore, so I ran. Davy is a good friend, and protects me. I dressed as a man, told people I'm younger than I am to explain my high voice, and got odd jobs here and there. That's about it."

"How old are you?"

"Twenty, sir."

He nodded, his brow creasing. How did she cope so well with a life at least as bad as his? Could crying really help so much?

"I'm sorry I hit you."

"No problem. I wanted you to get mad. It's nothing a couple of days won't fix. You've got a couple of nasty bruises yourself."

He sighed, slumping forward to hold his head in his hands again.

"What am I going to do about you and Read?"

"Leave us as we are, Captain. We've caused no trouble. I dare say we've even been an asset."

"Ah, you're probably right. But some of the crewmembers are very superstitious. If they found out…Just don't let that happen, all right?"

She nodded. Suddenly he remembered that he had been crying in this lovely young woman's arms moments before, and embaressment hit him. She smiled, and he was suddenly aware that she was beautiful. He had never really looked at her before; why would he, thinking of her as a young man? He had no reason to.

"Don't worry, Captain Rackham. Nobody will know about anything that's happened here. Eat that food and try to start feeling better. Goodbye."

He pulled the food tray closer to him as she headed out the door. He had never enjoyed a meal more.


	6. Chapter 6

Anne bit her lip, uncertain about what to do. The man watching her had startled her. She had gotten a slight cut on her shoulder while fencing with Read, and had retreated to the storeroom to clean it with rum in the privacy of the darkness. It was not until she had opened her blouse, revealing the rags obviously restraining breasts, that she realized one of Rackham's shadier crewmen was standing in the shadows, watching her with surprise and growing lust. Hastily, she buttoned her blouse up and glared at him. He hadn't seen anything really revealing, but no man would have any reason to bind up his chest like that. The pirate leered and approached her.

"Stay back."

"See 'ere, why you be'in like that, woman? Can'tcha be a mite friendlier?"

"If I wanted to be 'friendly' with you, I would have put on a dress and corset and batted my lashes. Stay away."

"What'cha gonna do if I don't, hussy? I ain't seen a woman in a long time. Hardly my fault if I'm lonely."

"Hardly. But I'm not willing to appease your loneliness, so I suggest you leave me alone. I'm perfectly capable of defending myself."

"Oh sure. How'd ya get that cut then, lass?"

When he grabbed her, smashing her back against the wall and pressing his horrid mouth to hers, anger swelled inside her. Hard hands ripping cloth away from her body, rank breath on her face, the sudden pleasant reassurance of her cutlass' hilt in her hand. When dirty hands gripped her curves, she snapped, feeling the sickening giving way of skin as her blade ran through it. He groaned and lurched away from her, clutching the blade that ran into his stomach. She watched him fall with a mixture of intense relief and utter horror. Yet she felt oddly detached as she pulled her cutlass from the body and cleaned it on his shirt, then righted her clothing and trudged up the stairs.

It was with a great sense of hesitancy that she approached the captain's cabin. She supposed she should tell Rackham before the body was discovered, but it was not a task she fancied.

………………………………………………………………………………………………

Jack looked up at Anne as she entered. Her clothes looked as if someone had tried to rip them from her, which worried him. He felt responsible for all his crewmembers, even this overly inquisitive, saucy girl. She looked upset, but not hysterical.

"What happened?"

"I…I killed one of the men."

"What?!"

"He…I was cleaning a cut on my shoulder, in the storeroom…and he...he tried to…to…"

"He tried to rape you?"

She nodded, fingering the hilt of her cutlass like she still felt frightened.

"That, you fool girl, is why we don't generally allow young women on ships. Now I've lost a valuable man, and I'll have to put you off at the next port, which means I've lost two good sets of hands."

"C-c-captain! P-p-please don't set me off! I'm safer here than I would be on land. Father's p-p-probably l-looking for m-me. He'll m-m-make me g-go back to J-J-James. And James'll k-k-ill me for running."

At any other time, he might have found her stutter when she was upset amusing, even oddly cute. At the moment he was just frustrated. No wonder they said women were bad luck on pirate ships. But if she were not exaggerating…

"Would your husband really hurt you?"

"Y-y-yes. H-he has be-before. The r-reason I left was that h-he b-beat m-me until I lost our b-b-baby. That and the w-w-women. But the baby w-was the w-w-worst part. I wanted m-m-my baby."

There were tears in her eyes. Jack tilted his head, regarding her in puzzlement. How was it that this girl could at times smile and laugh, given how hard her life had been? He, at least, knew Elizabeth was safe and happy with Will and her son. Anne knew only that her mother and child were dead, both killed by stupid men. He, at least, knew that he could not die, no matter how many people wished it, even if he himself wished it. Anne knew only that her father would force her into the grip of the man who had been unfaithful and abusive to her, who had killed her child, who may just as quickly kill her. How then, could she find it in her heart to sometimes smile sincerely?

"Tell me about your husband, Anne."

"H-he is a pirate, o-on a s-sm-small scale. H-he lives in N-Nassau. He r-r-reports to Go-governor Rogers, b-betraying h-his own pirate c-comrades for money."

"So he is a greedy man, correct?"

"Y-yes."

"Alright then, here's a plan. We'll go to Nassau. We'll look up your husband and pretend we're in love or some such nonsense. I'll offer to buy you, divorce-by-purchase. He likes money. I'll buy you from him, and you can continue working about this ship until you've worked off the money I give him. Then I'll set you off. You won't have to worry about your father anymore, because even if he catches you he'll not be able to force you back to a man you're divorced from. How's that sound?"

"G-good. Thank you sir. But why would you do that for me? What if Governor Rogers catches you?"

"Ha! I sacked Nassau without firing a shot, don't you know? I know every inch of the place like the back of my hand, and the guards know me like the backs of the coins I give 'em! It'll be easy. Besides, it's a pretty shady place, there's pirates all over the place. As to why I'm doing this, I like you, Anne, and I hate to see anyone innocent hurt by stupid men. Now go fix your clothes. I'll tell the crew you killed the man in a drunken fight. It's usual enough, though technically not allowed. Quarrels are supposed to be settled by duel on land. I may have to lock you in the brig a couple of nights as punishment. The crew won't mind such small punishment if I say the other man started it. Alright?"

She nodded. Her lips were red from where she'd been gnawing at them. In many ways she reminded him of a child, but those pretty lips were undoubtedly attractive. He allowed himself to dwell for a brief moment on those lips, and on the fact that if all went well she would soon be his property, but quickly tossed that rather odd and disturbing thought away quickly with a wry grin. Perhaps he ought to find some female company in Nassau. He couldn't remember the last time he'd had a woman. He was surprised at how utterly unpleasant the idea of sleeping with a prostitute sounded. He supposed his love for Elizabeth had developed a rather un-pirateish moral fiber in him. Anne was the first woman he had been attracted to in a long time, and he considered it a sign that perhaps he was starting to recover from eleven long years of unhappiness. When she left the room, he shook thoughts of women from his head and began charting a course for Nassau.


	7. Chapter 7

Anne stared at the house in trepidation. It had been a long time since she stared up the ugly gray shack. When she left, she had not looked back. She shuddered, but relaxed slightly when Jack slung an arm around her shoulders and drew her briefly against his side, offering encouragement. He would protect her; with his money and with his cutlass if necessary.

Releasing her, he tapped shortly on the door. A woman wrapped in an old robe that Anne recognized as having once been hers opened the door. Her hair was a veritable rat's nest and she stank of cheap perfume and who knew what else. She glared out as if she had not seen the sun in days. Her squinting eyes immediately latched onto Jack, evil promises glinting her bloodshot eyes and yellowed smile. With a roll of his eyes, Jack took out two coins and rubbed them together.

"I would like to speak to James Bonny, alone."

The harlot smiled hideously.

"Well, I'd love to allow ya, but he's wo'th a bit mor'n that ta me."

Another roll of the eyes and three more coins appeared.

"That's about it. I'll leave if ye'll add another."

"Gracious, you are spoiled."

"I've got a kid ta feed, mister. Ya think I'd be doing this wo'k othe'wise?"

He gave her another coin, and she ran off down the street, taking Anne's old robe with her. Jack entered the house first, ducking through the low door. James was sprawled out on the bed, snoring loud as thunder, stinking of rum. Jack raised a critical brow.

"Suddenly I'm realizing why people wouldn't come near me when I drank myself into a stupor in depression."

Anne tried to smile at his attempt at humor, but the memories were flooding back; the many nights James had brought harlots home and taken them on their bed while she huddled in the necessary trying not to think about it. The many times he had hit her. The nights she had tried to refuse his rough caresses and he had simply raped her. The night he beat her, punching her stomach and head repeatedly, until blood gushed from her nose and she sank to the floor in agony, blood pooling around her, sobbing at the realization that the blood meant her child would never see the light of day, hearing James stomp out and leave her to bleed to death. She would have, if the kind old woman from next door had not found her. Fear clamped around her at the memories, and she took deep breaths, fighting down panic.

Jack hugged her again, trying to relax her. He walked close to the bed, winked at Anne, then turned and yelled as loud as he could.

"HEY!"

James jumped out of bed, pulling a dagger from beneath his pillow and swinging blindly at Jack, who instinctively jumped back. Several choice curses later, James managed to get out a half-intelligible sentence, while Anne did her best to stay back in the shadows, quaking.

"You -- idiot! What the -- do you think you're doing?!"

"Waking you up. I should think that obvious."

"Why the --?! Get out o' my house for I stab ya and throw ya out!"

"Not yet. I've something to discuss with you."

"Spit it out! You've got a minute, startin' now!"

"I wish to buy a bit o' property from you, mate."

"What on earth? I haven't got nothin' wo'th selling 'cept a cheap whore and an old pair o' shoes! An' it looks like you've already got rid o' the whore!"

"What I'm of a mind to buy is worth a bit more than either, and worth a great deal to me. Do you recognize this little beauty?"

He took Anne's hand and dragged her gently into the light. James showed very little surprise, a slight raising of one brow the only indication he was caught unaware.

"You want to buy Anne?"

"Divorce-by-purchase. I want her."

"Why the -- would you want her? She's a stiff little whore. Hates being touched. Her only use would be to get kids on, and she can't even carry to term."

"Why should you care why I want her? I'll pay good money for her. How much do you want?"

"You can't have 'er."

"I'm a rich man, Bonny. Name a price."

"You can't have 'er. Not yet. She's mine. She's been hiding for a long time, and I want 'er back. Give me three weeks wit' her, an' then you can 'ave her. Won't be much left, but you can 'ave her."

"I want her now."

"Well you can't have 'er."

Anne was shaking all over, gripping Jack's hand tightly. Just then the harlot came back in, and James strode the two steps to the door and grabbed her roughly, saying something low in her ear and shoving her back out. Jack watched the interchange with narrowed eyes, then drew Anne against his side, his lips brushing her ear as he whispered. Though he made it look like a romantic moment, his words were not of love but of encouragement.

"Don't worry. I'll protect you."

James turned back, a wicked grin crossing his lips as he eyed Anne's slim body. He turned to the three-legged dresser in the corner and pulled out a yellowed shirt, yanking it over his head and tucking it into his breeches. Jack spoke.

"Bonny, are we going to make a deal or not?"

James didn't even look at Jack. He sat on the bed and pulled on his boots, lacing them up without paying a trace of attention to the couple. That was when the harlot came back again, with a constable in tow.


	8. Chapter 8

The judge studied the young woman curiously. She was a beauty, with her black hair and flashing green eyes, pretty lips and well formed face. She was obviously frightened, but there was something about her which conveyed a sense of strength. Personally, he suspected she had a million good reasons for leaving her husband, but he knew there was little he could do for her, for a man could, if he chose, prosecute his legal wife if she left without his agreement. Judge Williamson hated James Bonny with a vengeance, but he was not one to speak out against the governor's informant. He knew what sentence he must pass, hated it, and could not think of a single thing to do about it.

"I hereby sentence Anne Cormac Bonny to be flogged and to return to her legal husband. If she is found to have not returned to him, or to have left him again without his agreement, she will be flogged again and sentenced to a year in jail. Court dismissed."

………………………………………………………………………………………………

Jack thoroughly enjoyed the sensation of James Bonny's nose breaking beneath his fist. An upward punch and James spat out a mouthful of blood and two teeth. Gasping for breath, he held up his hands, gesturing surrender. Jack hit him as hard as he could in the stomach, then knocked him on the back of the head and watched him fall. Anne rose from the bed, wide-eyed; pulling on the jacket Jack gave her to cover her nearly shredded blouse. Blood streaked her back from the flogging she'd received. There was fear in her eyes. Jack had been watching the house, waiting for James to drag Anne back; but he hadn't expected Bonny to start ripping her clothes off the minute they entered the house. Thank heavens he'd been there.

"Come on, let's leave."

She was crying. Guilt washed over him. He had promised to protect her. Yet there had been little he could do against the law, and had known he could help her better by not putting up a fight against the constable who had taken her. He had expected she would be sent back to her husband, but never would have thought she would be flogged; not in a town where such situations were the norm rather than the exception.

She was obviously in pain, and they walked slowly down to the docks. For a few coins, the dock-master would strike the record of their landing from the books, and no one would be able to prove they had ever been there. Anyone who knew of the situation would assume they had eloped. They ducked into the dock-house, where he left her to bind up her chest while he guarded the door. When her disguise was back in place, he surveyed her. Now that he knew she was a woman, it was impossible not to notice, but he supposed it would still fool the others.

"When we board, follow me into my cabin. I've got some salve that ought to help those cuts. You can take care of your back alone in there while I get the men to cast off, alright?"

She just nodded. Watching her, Jack couldn't escape the guilt.

"I'm sorry, Anne. I figured I could handle Bonny, but I never thought of what would happen if he called in a copper. I'm sorry I didn't protect you."

"I-it's alright. I'm m-more f-f-frightened than hurt. I suppose I'll j-just always h-have to b-be w-wary of Nassau, a-and avoid my f-father."

"Don't worry. You'll be on _The Revenge, _safe and sound. I'm not going to put you off. I've thought of a better idea. I'll reveal you to the crew and claim you as my woman. No self-loving man would dare try to take a pirate's woman away from him. Especially an immortal pirate's woman."

"T-truly? Y-you'll not p-put me off?"

"No. But be prepared to sometimes act lovers a bit. The sailors won't believe it if we don't act it. Mostly at first. After a month or so they'll lose interest, and probably assume we have too."

"That's fine. I-I've always liked acting."

He smiled and led her down to the waiting longboat.

………………………………………………………………………………………………

"Gibbs!"

The older man scurried into Jack's cabin as quick as he could.

"What're you yellin' fer, Jack?"

"What the heck are Anne's things doing in here?"

"Well, Jack, the crew figured you'd be sleeping together, if she's gonna be your woman, so they loaded up her bags an' dumped 'em in here."

Jack sighed irritably and took a long swig from the bottle at his side.

"Gibbs, I believe I've lost my touch. Immortal or not, I'm getting old. Remember the days when I could get myself out of a pinch with a plan made up on the spot? Well, I can't do it anymore. Anne and I aren't really lovers, Gibbs. We're fakin' to keep her safe from a mean husband. And I didn't even have the brains to think the crew'll figure we'd share a bed. What am I gonna do with this, eh?"

"You could always seduce 'er."

The look on Jack's face made Gibbs fear for his life.

"I could make up a trundle bed…ye could slide it under the big bed during day, and pull it out at night fer one er the other of ya."

"Now that's an idea. Go ahead and do it, but first fetch Anne."

Anne accepted the situation easily. After all, Gibbs was making the trundle bed with quite a lot of blankets, and it was guaranteed to be more comfortable than the hammock she'd been using. Besides, she had always harbored a small fear for her safety when sleeping down in the hold with so many nasty sailors. Now, she was guaranteed safety.

When Gibbs left, however, there was a decided awkwardness to the whole thing. Jack broke the long silence with a chuckle.

"I've sure enough managed to make a mess of things."

She sat down on the soft trundle bed and smiled.

"Not so much. This is much nicer than the crew's quarters."

He grinned.

"You can have the bed. Ladies get privileges."

"No, I'm fine here. Captains get privileges."

"It's about time somebody agreed with me on that."

………………………………………………………………………………………………

The first night went fine. The next day, however, Gibbs reported that the men were already speculating that the couple didn't seem very lover-ish.

Jack pulled Anne up beside him at the wheel, gesturing for her to take it. Then he stepped behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist, resting his chin on her shoulder, whispering.

"Do you think any of them find it strange that I'm claiming a woman some twenty five years my junior as my lover?"

She laughed. To any passing crewmen, the entire exchange looked flirtatious and playful. If only they knew. She answered quietly.

"Probably not. I mean, you are immortal. Someday I'll look older than you. You're frozen in time at what? Thirty-five? So really that's only around fifteen years. Still a lot, but not so extreme."

"Mm…I suppose so."

He nuzzled her neck, surprised at how sweet her hair brushing his face smelled, even more surprised at the sudden heady rush of desire it caused. It had been too long since he'd been with a woman. He was playing with fire, and so far there was no pain, just delicious warmth. However, he was well aware than no matter how horrid a man James Bonny was, he was still Anne's legal husband. There had been married women, before Elizabeth, but as he had often considered, some vague sense of morals had rubbed off on him; from her and Will perhaps, or perhaps just from having felt such a deep, selfless love. The only women he had had in the eleven years since Elizabeth married had been whores bought in drunken stupors. He had forgotten, in the last couple of years when things had been so bad, and then had begun getting better, that he had once been a veritable womanizer. Yet Anne was forbidden territory; a blossoming orchard surrounded by huge 'No Trespassing' signs. Still, under the pretext of being her lover, he moved his lips up the white column of her neck, enjoying the shiver that moved through her.

Anne had never felt anything like what Jack's lips on her neck caused. Shivers coursed up and down her spine, she felt a sudden longing for more, a delicious curiosity. What would those warm, salt-chapped lips feel like on hers? She longed to turn in his arms, to feel his mouth touch hers. Reacting purely on instinct, she held the wheel with one hand, turning toward him. His eyes bored into hers, burning with black luminescence. He leaned down towards her, beautiful dark orbs flicking from her eyes to her mouth and back again. He hovered a half inch away from her lips, and she stood frozen, entranced by his eyes. She sighed in disappointment when he rested his forehead against hers, still looking into her eyes. His voice was husky, full of longing.

"Anne…we can't…I want you, but you're not mine to want."

She nodded, miserably. Never before had she wanted to be kissed, to be touched. And now the one time she longed for it, she could not have it. Always, she had been forced to put up with unwanted advances, from James and the nasty men he brought home. She had no idea how many times she had been abused, even raped. She had had a friend once, who was happily married, who spoke in whispers and giggles of how wonderful a relationship a man and woman could have. She had never understood how Susan could long for her husband's hands on her. Now it suddenly made sense. But Jack was not her husband. He was right not to kiss her. She was wrong to long for it so. She turned back to the wheel, feeling the sudden cold rush of loneliness as he walked away. Gibbs walked towards her, looking puzzled. She supposed it must be obvious in her flushed face that the exchange had not been faked. He took the wheel, and she wandered to the rail, staring out at the sea.

………………………………………………………………………………………………

Jack leaned his head on the doorjamb in his cabin, taking deep breaths, forcing down the intensity of urgent desire and heated need. How could the girl make him want her so much when he had not even kissed her? The look in her eyes, the longing, had nearly driven him over the edge of his sanity. Why did his life always have to be so complicated? Could things possibly get any worse?

Ten minutes later, Jack found out exactly how much worse things could get. The 'Man-overboard' call was not a good thing in any circumstances, but the fact that they happened to be sailing through shark inhabited waters made it something of an emergency. Given, sharks rarely attacked humans without provocation, but if whoever had fallen overboard cut themselves on the way down, the scent of blood could draw attackers. He hurried out of his cabin, watching the scurrying crewmen. What worried him most was that Mary Read had abandoned any pretense of maleness and was sobbing. Gibbs ran over to Jack, obviously upset.

"Captain! Ginger-snap went over. He cut his arm bad cutting sailcloth, and got off balance when he saw the blood. He hit his head on the way down, and I figure he was dead when 'e hit the water. The sharks are swarming 'im. There's nothing we can do, but I'd say we should get out o' here."

"Right. Anne! Bring Read to my cabin, would you?"

Anne led the sobbing woman in a moment later.

"Read, calm yourself! I don't think anyone noticed in the commotion, but you're not acting. Remember, you're only staying on if you can keep up your disguise."

Anne gave him a glare.

"Jack, she's lost the man she loves. Give her a moment."

"I won't have this kind of behavior on my ship!"

"You acted like this for ten years, Jack! Over a woman who is alive and happy! Her lover is dead! Have a heart!"

Jack fell silent, surprised at the vehemence in Anne. He had seen her crying, frightened, stuttering, but never angry. There was something intensely attractive about her eyes flashing with green flame. He wanted to keep watching her, but he turned his attention back to Mary, who was still crying quietly.

"Alright. I'm sorry Mary. It's just I'm already having problems with the crew thinking having Anne aboard is bad luck. Two women aboard and the entire group will probably jump ship. Now, how about talking a bit? They say that helps."

"Captain…I've got to…to tell you somethin'…Jon…that's Ginger-snap's name…he and I were…were married three months ago, when we docked in that little port called Cathway….and….and…and…I'm pregnant…"

Jack groaned as he allowed his head to hit the desk.


	9. Chapter 9

"Anne, what should I do?"

Sitting on the corner of Jack's desk at about midnight, Anne poured rum into a glass and sipped it as if it were fine wine.

"You should stop pacing and get some sleep."

He sighed and managed to sit down, pulling a die from his pocket and turning it round and round, biting the nails on his free hand.

"You realize, don't you Jack, that you are completely incapable of sitting still? What is it you think you should do?"

"I don't know! I TOLD her not to get pregnant. I don't care that they were married. I wasn't concerned with legitimacy. I was concerned with keeping the ship childfree, and with keeping the crew unaware of Read's gender. Now what am I to do? Put her off, pregnant with no means of surviving? Keep her on and have the crew riot at the presence of two women? Ugh, I'm getting old."

Anne laughed mildly and sprawled out on his large bed. He moved to lie beside her. There was an odd, casual sense of friendliness in the position, despite its intimacy. Even despite the passionate moment on the deck earlier. They were focused, for the moment, on the problem at hand, not on each other.

"It's not as if you must decide right now what to do about her. It will be a few months still before it is obvious. You can think of a plan during that time. The main problem now is to get her calmed. She keeps crying. Nobody's really noticed yet, and she's trying to duck into the necessary when she starts sobbing, but she needs to be more careful."

"Alright. I'll talk to her."

"Good. But be gentle, Jack. Think how you would have felt if the woman you loved had died in a violent and unnecessary way. Alright?"

"Fine. You act like my mother."

She smiled, and he found himself once again drawn in by her beauty; pearly white teeth, soft red lips, flashing green eyes. Suddenly he was all too well aware of the situation; they were alone, on his bed, and the entire crew believed them to be lovers. He didn't think, _couldn't_ think. He brushed his fingers over her soft cheeks, down her white neck, forcing himself to stop at her collar as he watched long lashed eyes flutter shut, full lips part. He wanted her so much it he doubted whether or not he could actually stop himself. So he was never certain whether or not he was grateful to Gibbs for knocking on the door just as he was about to the close the tiny distance between them.

"Captain! There's a sail on the horizon! It's a little sloop, looks to be coming from Nassau. Seems to be…following us, Captain."

Brushing his thumb regretfully over Anne's lips, Jack looked into her eyes and was surprised to find fear there.

"It's James, Jack. He won't give me up. He likes to hurt me. The whores…he gets sick of them because even if they don't like him, they've trained to seem willing. He wants to hurt things…to do things I don't want…"

"Hey…don't look so scared…I know I couldn't protect you against that copper, but on the sea, between pirates…You're safe with me."

She tried to hide her trembling.

"I hope so."


	10. Chapter 10

Jack smiled in satisfaction as James Bonny's sloop turned and headed away, listing badly to one side from at least one grazing cannonball. Anne came up beside him, looking relieved.

"See? I told you I could chase him off out here. You're safe on the sea, Anne, as long as you're with me. I'll take care of you."

Her smile was beautiful. Jack gritted his teeth, fighting off the all too familiar rush of emotion; the potent mixture of admiration and respect and protectiveness and desire that had led him to eleven years of sorrow. He would not allow himself to fall into the same trap twice. Love had nearly killed him, and he had lost faith in its power to heal the wounds it caused.

………………………………………………………………………………………………

Anne watched her husband's ship shrink into the distance, filled with intense relief. She smiled at Jack when he spoke, then hugged him tightly, feeling him return the embrace gently before pushing her away. There was a strange expression on his face…something between desire and fear.

"We took a hit." He said calmly.

She panicked, paling. "Are we sinking?!"

He grinned. "No, luv. We'll just need to head to the closest port and do some repairs. And I'm going to send someone back to Nassau to check on your dear husband's condition. I want to know if his ship will be in a state to chase us anytime soon."

"Oh, alright. Are you all right? You look upset."

"No. It's nothing."

He walked away quickly, stiffly. Worry filled her. Something was wrong.

………………………………………………………………………………………………

Jack stared at the liquid in the dirty bottle. For so many years, it had been a cure-all, the antidote to any multitude of problems. Suddenly it wasn't anything more than dirty colored liquid in a grimy bottle. Sighing, he set it down and ran his fingers through his hair. Since he had cut off the dreadlocks, it had been easier to keep clean, and he thought it looked good, especially now that it was growing out a little.

He groaned as thoughts of past and present pummeled him. Anne was so different from Elizabeth. But the feelings were so familiar. Perhaps it was how different they were that frightened him. If Anne had been just like Elizabeth, he could convince himself that these feelings were nothing but his memories of Elizabeth being applied to Anne. But despite the fact that Anne's feisty spirit sometimes reminded him of his former love, he knew his present feelings were for Anne and Anne alone. It terrified him beyond belief. He would not, _could _not allow himself to fall in love again. It would kill him, immortal or not. It would kill what was left of his soul. Perhaps it was good, that he knew from the outset that he could not have her. She was another's, no matter how unworthy James Bonny was. It gave him another reason to resist her.

Despite his determination not to love again, he found himself thinking of the differences between Elizabeth and Anne. Elizabeth had been striving for freedom from society, from rules and strictures and corsets. All Anne wanted was to be free from cruelty and pain. Elizabeth had been happiest when she was in control, protecting herself and crushing anyone who stood in her way. Anne had killed to protect herself, but was happiest when someone else was protecting her. Elizabeth matched him lust for lust, confident in her beauty, in her ability to seduce. Anne looked up at him with uncertainty, wanting and curious, yet hesitant. Elizabeth would betray her closest companions if the need arose. Anne, Jack thought, would die with her friends rather than let them die while she remained alive.

Once, Elizabeth had been perfection; a selfish, seductive pirate goddess. Now, perhaps because of the wisdom that comes with years and troubles, she suddenly seemed shallow compared with sweet, fierce little Anne. He growled, grabbing the rum and gulping down half the bottle easily. This train of thought was leading him exactly to where he _didn't _want to go. Anne did something to him that Elizabeth never had; she made him feel needed. She needed to be protected. She needed his help. Needed his friendship. He had never thought that seemingly simple difference would mean so much. It came to him in a very vague memory; being much younger, sitting in his mother's kitchen listening to his mother and his sister speak.

_Mum sighed. "Jasmine, you need to remember one thing. God made men to be leaders, warriors, and protectors. That doesn't mean we women don't have the right to do the same things. But men need to feel needed, need to feel strong. Just like we need to feel wanted and beautiful." _

He had only been half-listening and had never really considered the concept. He had always been somehow weak with women; almost feminine in a way. Not in some unnatural or perverted way. He'd just always felt like women had some power over him, always felt like the vulnerable one in any relationship. Anne was so different. She didn't expect him to hide behind her. She didn't expect to be the one to initiate a relationship. She didn't think him incapable of doing the right thing unless literally chained into doing it. She _respected _him, and he felt better about himself than he ever had before. He would not betray that trust, that respect. He was determined to be everything she thought he was.

He was in love with her. He threw the bottle at the wall.

**A/N: If this chapter seems somehow Elizabeth-bashing, I deeply apologize. She's one of my fav movie characters ever, but she **_**is **_**selfish. That's what makes her so pirate! I'm not saying that makes her less cool, just that in the story, Jack's matured to the point of needing something a little deeper. **


	11. Chapter 11

Anne was still worrying about Jack, leaning on the rail and staring out to sea. She was worrying about herself as well. Lately it seemed like her every thought circled around the captain. She was enthralled by the new emotions she was experiencing, yet frightened and appalled by them. She kept thinking over and over again; _It's wrong, it's wrong, it's wrong. _It echoed, like a mantra through her brain. How she wished she had never married James Bonny. Her father had been cruel, but not like James. Her father called her all sorts of ugly names and sometimes slapped her, but never hit her, never raped her. She had thought she was escaping cruelty by marrying Bonny, but had thrown herself out of the frying pan and into the fire. Perhaps that was why she felt so free here, surrounded by nothing but water and accompanied by a man who would not even kiss her, just because it was wrong. She couldn't remember if there had ever been a time in her life when she felt so safe, so protected. She was a pirate by necessity, had learned to protect herself because she had to. But with Jack around, she felt like, for the first time in her life, she could relax and feel safe.

Jack had been there for her. When Jack heard of James' mistreatment of her, he was willing to buy her. When James had nearly ripped her clothes from her body, Jack had given her his coat to cover her. Where James had had her flogged, Jack offered salve to soothe the wounds. When James chased them, Jack chased him away. He was wonderful; strong and compassionate, willing to set aside his own sorrows until she was safe.

She found herself longing to be there for him the way he had for her. To comfort him when the memories rushed back. To help him understand that memories were good as long as they did not take one away from the present. To sit and just let him talk about whatever it was that bothered him. What _was_ bothering him?

He was the best friend she had ever had. Even Davy wasn't really that much of a friend. He hadn't known she was a woman, had attached himself to her because it made them more likely to get jobs; she did skill work and he did strength work. Back in Ireland, she had been tormented by peers because she was illegitimate; her mother had been a maid in her father's house. Here, she was among those like her. She wondered if there was a single legitimate child in the crew. Jack didn't look down on her. He respected her and protected her. She had never been so happy in her life. _It's wrong, it's wrong, it's wrong._

Jack was the most handsome man she had ever met, especially now that he had regained a healthy weight and some sparkle had returned to his gorgeous eyes. When he smiled that golden smiled, her heart jumped at his beautiful boyishness. She loved the way his eyes laughed when he was happy. She loved the way he couldn't sit still, was constantly moving and fidgeting like a little boy in church. She loved every strange quirk and eccentricity in him.

She was in love with him. A tear rolled down her cheek .

**A/N: Sry, kind of short chap. Wanted to have both characters realize the same thing at roughly the same time. **


End file.
